


Leylines

by KolorfulKyandii



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Allura is God, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Character(s) of Color, De-Aged Voltron Paladins, F/F, F/M, Gender Dysphoria, Greater Good Dumbledore, LGBTQ, M/M, Manipulative Albus Dumbledore, Mental Link, Muggle Culture, Multi, Panic Attacks, Platonic Soulmates, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pureblood Society (Harry Potter), Reincarnation, Slytherin Politics, Wizarding Culture (Harry Potter), character replacement
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:04:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23706769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KolorfulKyandii/pseuds/KolorfulKyandii
Summary: Keith was just a normal kid born in Texas, but in the end, he became someone great through hard work and willingness to learn.Harry was born The Chosen One, but in the end, he was just a normal kid who showed everyone you don’t have to be extraordinary to be a hero where it counts.When Haggar destroyed the Leylines of the world, shattering entire spinoffs of time and reality until it was whittled down to none, Allura became the goddess who formed them back, shaped them from her own hand. But Allura was no born God. She had a subconscious mind. Though unintentional, her personality touched the world that was reformed from her mind, changing it. Such is the nature of creation.The Paladins were part of her, and they deserved the world at their feet.----------Written just for fun; irregular and far apart updates.
Relationships: Adam/Shiro (Voltron), Ezor/Zethrid (Voltron), Hunk/Shay (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	1. Chosen Ones, Fated Ones

Pain. Pain like fire. He screamed. Thrashed. Eventually became aware something was holding him down, but the sensation was foggy. He had no strength. His mind was reeling, flashes of images, sensations, and emotions that he couldn’t grasp.

Eventually, things settled and Keith laid still for a very long time, eyes closed, trying to process everything that had happened that day. It was tough. He understood some, _[but the rest was a confusing blur. Even the mere thought that he didn’t quite understand swirled dizzily,]_ as he half tried to figure things out and half didn’t even understand the concept of what he was trying to think about. _[Who he was. Memories.]_ Flashflashflash, it hurt him, he didn’t understand, what was happening _[in his mind]_ around him.

The world was too much. He cried. Someone was holding him still. It was comfort. _[He hated most contact. This should cause panic?]_ Instinctively, he was quieting. The thoughts slipped away as he fell asleep, _[his mind too scrambled, needing to process.]_

\--------------------------------

Voices. They were familiar and soothing.

No, they weren’t. Who was that? They were talking about colors, but not as titles, just colors.

Keith opened his eyes and was confused. Everything was weird. It was fine here, he knew that, but also something was missing. A lot of something.

His ears suddenly tuned into the conversation more sharply with the trigger of the word “Harry.”

“-was screaming really loudly, Sir. It can’t be nothing!” The woman sounded distressed. Keith didn’t like that. “And when he opened his eyes they were a different color!”

“They aren’t Gold, though, Lily. Nor are they the dark red associated with vampirism, look closely, they’re more of a copper and wine color, like a rainbow’s red has been mixed with your greens, not a crimson. I’ve checked and checked. I promise you, he is safe.”

“Rightly so.” A more unfamiliar woman placed a hand on The Woman. “I understand a new mother’s worry but I truly think it’s just an unusual event. Eye color changes happen a lot with young children. Usually not overnight and typically it only happens with light blue eyes, but it is not unheard of Lily. His green does mean there was blue in them after all, so it’s not inconceivable. I promise he is safe. Just unusual in that regard.”

The Woman, Lily, fidgeted with her hands and somehow Keith both knew the other woman was not helping much and that he should comfort her.

He tried to sit up, grabbing for what he noticed for the first time – his eyes were having trouble focusing, weird – a railing to help him sit up.

Those. Those were not his hands.

And suddenly he understood something that had simply pricked at his consciousness this entire time.

He was a baby.

Keith stared at his hand for a second, at his tiny, round fingers that didn’t even go all the way around the bars, and screamed as loud and high pitched as he possibly could, without meaning to.

\--------------------------------

Not being able to feed himself was annoying. Not being able to sit up easily was annoying. Everything being huge and out of control and capable of hurting him was annoying. The people were more annoying than those four factors combined.

Also, he _missed_ them. Didn’t completely get why Shiro or his Dad or Krolia weren’t there, didn’t understand Lance’s absence from his side when he turned to look, DESPISED the foods. There either wasn’t enough variety when he missed Hunk’s cooking, or was too much variety, he couldn’t tell. He wanted the nutrient-packed, probably-fun-to-play-with Goo, not the slimy stuff that made his mouth uncomfortable. Other days he missed Pidge and her logic, explaining what was happening to his foggy mind.

Some days he just cried and cried, wanting one of them, any of them, but they never came for him.

\--------------------------------

Other Father was doing the thing that made Other Mother upset again. The thing with the stick and the bubbles that made no sense and made Other Mother yell about developing minds.

It was confusing. He both knew and did not know how things worked. He understood that if he was any other child – it would have been torment and pain as a result of Father doing this, even though it was pretty and made him giggle.

Seeing things float at the twist of a stick, things created and disappearing; Keith understood this was different than the rest of the world. Others would not. The usual child would not have been able to differentiate between when the crib moving on its own was safe or unconnected to them, and injure themselves trying to fly like the rest of things could. The bubbles and movements and transforming things and flying house equipment was fun and made the child laugh now, but a normal child would have not connected that to Physics, something they were still learning, not understand why they could not do those things and the resulting pain.

At the least, Keith understood that this was not supposed to happen to him, that he could not fly out of the crib, and that something had changed. Things were not as they were supposed to be and his Other Parents should not be able to do these things.

But mostly, he just missed Shiro, Lance, Hunk, Pidge, Allura, Coran, and Krolia.

\--------------------------------

He began to notice his Other Parents never left the house and understood they were hiding. This place was dangerous. He must be careful once he could move better.

Keith picked up one of the squishy balls they threw at the dog that was also human and refused to let it go. Sirius let him keep it with a smile, thinking it cute. Keith thought he needed to get stronger and wanted his hands to be able to do things.

\--------------------------------

He started to understand the slime food was what always made his stomach upset and began to refuse to eat it. He started hating the syllables that made the word ‘Harry’ and would make a disgruntled noise whenever it was voiced. It was wrong. He didn’t know why. All of this was wrong. He woke to a wallpapered room instead of cold steel that meant he was safe, and the Paladins were far, far away. He knew it. And that was wrong, and unsafe, to be so far.

Someone interrupted his stunted attempt at calling them by shoving a soft plastic-coated spoon in his mouth. He would rather just have the spoon to chew on. Teething hurt like a bitch.

He spat the food out on whoever gave it to him, not even opening his eyes, still spread-eagled on the bed. He could smell the slime as it came close again, and swatted the spoon away. “No.” He managed to hiss. His jaw and tongue didn’t have the strength for much more than simple syllables. He was working on it.

The adult screamed and startled him into crying. “LILY! LILY HIS FIRST WORD! HE THREW HIS FOOD AT ME AND SAID NO!’ LILLYYYYY-”

\--------------------------------

Today Keith was working on motor function. He used Sirius to help. When the man walked in the room, Keith did his best to raise his arm and fling the toy at him, though it fell woefully short, didn’t even clear the edge of the crib. Sirius smiled at him and set about preparing the table in the corner for something, Keith couldn’t keep his attention on it to tell what. He picked up the ball and gave a short “AAAAM,” the most he could manage for a demand. Sirius turned to him and walked over. Keith pulled himself back up and grabbed his coat through the bars.

He got his way and Sirius picked him up. Keith flung the stick-like and unbending arm around again, catching Sirius square in the jaw with the ball. Keith smiled.

Sirius inhaled slowly, face going red, and then exploded. “JAMES YOUR KID WANTS TO PLAY FETCH OH MERLIN OH MER-” the man yelled as he raced down the stairs, cut off as he stumbled only lightly while clenching Keith to his chest, then had them out the door in seconds.

It was one of the very few times he had been allowed outside.

Keith flung the ball as hard as he could after he was set down, made it maybe two feet not including rolling down the path a bit, and the black dog enthusiastically brought it back. The next time, Keith did his best to flick his wrist. It hurt and he whined, but something told him to keep doing it. It was a good idea. Besides, the dog was making him laugh. He couldn’t seem to stop. Sirius was just so delighted…

The door slammed open. “WAIT WHAT DO YOU MEAN FE-”

Keith stared up at Other Father with wide eyes, caught in the act, then as James remained still it slipped his mind and he threw the ball again. Sirius scrabbled, yapping excitedly, as he broke out of his frozen stance to go get it. Keith laughed again.

James was quiet for two more throws before he managed to snap out of it and started mother-henning about sanitation and the gravel of the stone pathway harming his skin. Keith growled as he was picked up, and then again as the “Harry” sound happened.

\--------------------------------

Shiro was closer. Keith was antsy and kicked and grabbed at the edge of the side table before falling back down again, trying once more before going off towards the door at a speedy crawl.

Once again James caught him, calmly deposited him back inside the playpen, and went back to reading.

Keith scowled, and for just a second the fog receded a bit and he could understand he needed a different strategy, rather than trying the same approved route to getting out yet again, because the obstacles beyond it would prevent him.

So he made the screeching sound he always did when he hated food, a demand for the mysterious special kind Lily would get him from town. It was only a screech because he couldn’t pronounce ‘chicken nuggets’. He always giggled endlessly each time James, often with Sirius, expressed such wonder at ‘the weird Muggle food’. Lily would meet his gaze with eyes dancing and a mischievous grin.

James sighed, deliberated, then nodded and stood, heading upstairs while calling to Lily what he wanted.

Keith was out of the pen in less than the time it would take a kitten to get out, which was a much higher standard than human children, and managed to get both to the door and out Sirius’ dog door before James began to come back downstairs.

He got lucky and he knew it – they looked for him around the house first.

Shiro was bigger and stronger and could get further than Keith. Was trying to find him. He could feel Shiro a little more clearly through the fog, could hear Lance’s crying echoing in his ears from his desperation to join them, and Hunk’s heartache, forever present in the other, notch higher. It echoed in his chest and made his breathing tighten, pricking him with guilt, because for him to have a physical reaction to Hunk’s wavelength – the other would be struggling to draw breath itself, from this level of anxiety. Lance’s desperation echoed fiercely at that, sending tears pricking at Keith's eyes. Shiro’s powerful determination a soothing and reassuring undertone, comforting them all at once. Pidge took deep breaths for them all, exuding as much reassurance as she could search her memories for.

He didn’t care about the path, short-cutting straight through the grass, even though it started to make his knees itchy, shoving full force with his mind – images of where he was, what was around him.

Shiro didn’t know where he was from what Keith could see, but he would damn well find out where this place was.

It would have helped if Shiro knew where he _himself_ was though. Keith could tell that he didn’t.

But it was Shiro. Shiro always found him. It was just taking longer this time. Just like when he wanted to have the special food and had to wait for Other Mother to go get it for him.

He could see houses down off that hill. No sooner had he pressed that image through the foggy bond for Shiro to see then hands appeared and grabbed, dragging, the ground disappearing from beneath him. Lance cried harder.

“NO! Nuu. Nnn. Hhhhsss! SH-RUH!” The wail of desperation ended in a sob. Other Parents were concerned, taking him away from sending pictures even faster.

\--------------------------------

Lily sang softly as she rocked him.

Keith liked darker colors, except her. She could comfort too. No light people had been comforting before. Mother had been dark and colorful, not that he could clearly remember that, but it made him think of dark colors when he wanted comfort. Shiro was dark and natural. Lance was comforting nature colors that blended in shadows, except the eyes like raindrops. The dark meant comfort, is what his early mind was taught. But Lily was bright everywhere. Light skin, fiery hair, bright eyes. It shouldn’t feel safe to his former nurture, but it did.

Her voice too. Shiro’s was even and calm. Lance, providing support and advice, was the highest of the comforting voices he knew, but still much deeper than Other Mother. Mother’s was deep and melodic. Lily’s was higher and bubbly. Different. Yet also safe.

It often confused him when he opened his eyes from sleep, feeling safe and warm, and instead of darks and peace, there was bright and bubbly. Shocking even. It made him startle often if he woke up with her holding him. But she was safe, so he would settle. Safe, but different safe.

Bright was here too often. For safe, he wanted the colorful darks or dark and light. But when he was warm like this he just wished for those tones to be more muted, the eyes keeping his gaze less colorful and more natural.

He missed Pidge’s laughter when it was Sirius happy instead.

He missed Hunk’s calming presence when the food tasted all wrong.

He missed Shiro’s safety when he was alone.

He missed Lance’s everything since he was always, always steady.

\--------------------------------

They missed him too. It made his chest hurt. He didn’t understand why. He just knew he should be doing something when they hurt.

\--------------------------------

And then they found the not-safe place.

James ran for the thing that made things appear and disappear but it was gone, the cabinet empty. And then he left towards the dangers. Lily held Keith a bit too tight and it made his chest hurt. He wined and she shushed him almost violently, shocking him into silence. She had never been that upset with him before.

James was back but it was not a good back. He was thrown. Keith knew what it felt like because he had been thrown like that before too.

“Concentrate.” Other Mother hissed, and Keith looked up at her.

That word meant she needed to calm down. Patience yielded focus.

Keith placed a hand on her cheek where he was huddled by, and she met his eyes.

They were dark right now. Dark, and became _dangerous_ as she kept his gaze. She held him tighter again. Her unrest was gone.

She took out her stick and pointed it at the too-dark that stepped through after Other Father. The enemy. That was more clear than anything. This one was harming, like the Empire.

And what did they do to the Empire?

Keith bared his teeth at the man, and snarled. It didn’t sound completely human. He’d learned from the Galra.

The enemy faltered in a bit of what Keith couldn’t understand, giving him an odd look.

Lily took a slow breath and closed her eyes. “Happy memory.” She murmured.

Happy? What was Other Mother doing?

The room filled with Quintessence and attacked the enemy, throwing him away from James.

Things Keith couldn’t understand happened. Lily was fighting. James was still by the wall. Keith was with Lily, then James, then behind Lily. The enemy was fierce. There was fire and the room was being ripped from its frames and flung piece by piece. Lightning flashed. There was no logic or movement he could track to see what they were doing. The enemy had shattered the Quintessence and Other Mother got the upper hand for a bit when she screamed and flung herself at them, clawing like a feral animal, and the enemy was extremely taken off guard. Weird of them. Then he couldn’t tell who was winning again.

They were all upstairs now. Lily and James were huddled around him, protecting him.

The enemy stalked forward with exaggerated slowness. He was savoring their pain. This was a bad thing. Keith knew it like he knew he hated onions, no matter how many lives he was in.

Other Mother had said happy memories and created Quintessence that attacked. But she needed the stick for it. She could do bubbles without it, but not move things or anything more strenuous than that, so the stick was needed.

Keith reached out and laid a hand over her stick on the wood floor, as the enemy entered the room.

“Crucio.”

Other Mother was wrenched away from him, screaming.

“AMMA!” Keith screamed, then snarled again, angry.

“LILY!” James echoed. Keith was left alone on the floor, set down gently, and James leaped forward to drag her back.

Crucio. Crucio. Crucio.

They were both screaming.

Keith was angry, viciously, but his hands couldn’t make the fire without the bayard. So he remembered Other Mother’s idea. He closed his eyes.

Happy memories?

A huge futuristic ship the size of a small city, with an anti-gravity pool, and a seat made just for him in the control room. The training deck where they learned to bond and protect each other, and ran each other into invisible electric walls. Lance’s smile, laughter, quiet wisdom beneath his happy exterior, challenges and a very distinct lack of boredom, rightness, and warmth. Food goo and food fights and Hunk cooking or singing or doing whatever else, but whatever it was, it always did good in the world. Coran’s inspiration and randomly decorating the bridge with themes that had unfamiliar words, eccentric and fun and keeping them all functioning. Pidge always creating things, new and amazing ideas, giving them entirely new ideas about the world, video games and tackling Shiro and changing the landscape. Allura’s courage and guidance, walking around the ship always put together, working on the World Map for fun, giving them a home, shyly lighting up when she saw them, or got to touch anything sparkly. Shiro’s steady guidance, subtle quips, amused sighs - watching them all with a smile.

Home.

It worked. The Quintessence poured out into the room. The familiar sound of the Red Lion’s happy roar filled his ears as the Quintessence temporarily strengthened his connection to her.

… It took too long. They weren’t okay. He failed. They were not holding him or whispering to him or smiling at him. He couldn’t protect them enough to keep them safe.

But they BREATHED.

The man howled in anger, and a flash of light covered his vision before he lost consciousness.

\--------------------------------

The new people didn’t understand what he could manage to say, didn’t help him get stronger, didn’t make sure he got fed but wouldn’t let him find it himself, treated him like he didn’t understand a word they said, and wouldn’t let him see his parents or see other places to give Shiro pictures to find him.

Righteously, he bit any stranger that dared touch him.

Lily and James wouldn’t wake up, and Sirius never appeared, so the long-haired white one gave him to abusers. “They’ll teach him to be strong.” The old man had said to the cat with eyes too dark with guilt. “They’ll let him live a childhood, prepare him to be kind and gracious to those that give to him upon his return. He’ll be famed, people will seek his favor. He must have humility.”

Even at a year and a half old, Keith could smell the deceit clearly, and curled his lip, then let out a sharp sound that Other Mother knew meant he wanted chicken nuggets.

“Ornery, hm?” The old man said and turned to the table to open one of the jars of slime, leaning over the crib with it and the spoon.

Keith grabbed for it and swung his hand back and forth as fast as he could, splattering the man in it from head to toe.

“These are silk robes.” The man sighed.

\--------------------------------

Pidge was close.

Pidge was extremely, extremely close.

Only miles away. Only a few miles. Not three or so states away anymore. A mere few miles.

And she was held agonizingly at that distance, with him locked in the dark, with her not yet able to think clearly enough to realize why Keith felt closer but was not with her.

They could finally communicate, even if on a basic level, and it was like a breath of air after being held underwater… for two full years.

The feeling when they were forcefully separated in the Lions, the soul-teaching, shredding, permanent-damage feeling – that had slowly faded into their minds at about week four. Hurting their hearts, not their bodies – their souls.

Until the day he was abandoned on a doorstep, it had been only a few times they’d identified more than each other’s existence, and it had been entirely pain. That same pain of separation, echoing in all the others, desperately trying to cope emotionally.

But he and Pidge?

They could finally communicate more than that. More than just basic pain.

They could feel each other’s _joy._

They could feel each other’s _loneliness._

They could finally feel their minds’ restlessness be quiet! Finally, protect their thoughts from each other – shield themselves so that the other didn’t feel what they didn’t want to share, because the connection no longer strained and frayed their nerves. They could finally give each other a break from the other’s pain. Could finally gain control of one small part of their own thoughts, of themselves, and stop _losing their fucking minds._

\--------------------------------

Shiro was closer again.

This time Keith’s mind was clear enough to understand that Shiro was just repeatedly running away from home and trying to outright walk to them. Already four – five next week -, he had the strongest legs, understood more than they, and he wanted to see them. So he just took every opportunity and… left.

They caught him in just hours this time.

In the dark closet, Keith couldn’t stop giggling. And then there was searing, searing pain.

It was the first time they hit him. For being too loud. For being happy for the first time, and that made Vernon angry.

Shiro didn’t try and run away for a full year after that. He was scared. He would get Keith hurt, was all he understood. Running to find them meant Keith being hurt, because running to find them made Keith happy.

\--------------------------------

Shiro hated the Dursleys. Hated them poisonously, the feeling more intense than even when Shiro had PTSD attacks.

Pidge was angry, but didn’t understand enough to say why, and would lash out around her without her awareness – usually with Quintessence as she instinctively tried to reach for him.

Hunk was terrified for him. As usual, harboring very little ill will – but if given a chance, would dutifully do whatever was needed to the Dursleys to protect him from them.

The worst was Lance. Every blow they struck that landed hard enough for Lance to feel the extreme pain he was in over the distance, Lance would accompany with a wave of murderous intent. They couldn’t fully understand that kind of emotion, not even why it was so heavy in Lance’s chest, or what it meant. But with each blow hard enough for Lance to tell it happened, with each time he could feel Keith’s side of consciousness cut off as he fainted from hunger – it got stronger and deeper. He’d do _anything_ to make it stop.

Because even if a kid didn’t understand their emotions of hate or murderous intent or deep anger – they understood love. And Lance loved him, that was more crystal-clear than anything else Keith knew in the entire world. So did Pidge, so did Shiro, so did Hunk. But Lance's heart was endless compared to theirs. It was his strength, and weakness.

The dark, heavy feeling when they hit or starved him only got hollower as time went on and Lance could do _nothing._

They knew, all of them understood, that it was bad. That it was bad Lance’s emotions did that, and it would not end well or gracefully. It was poison. The Dursleys’ violence was acting as a poison making Lance helpless. Keith didn’t like him feeling those weird things. _Extremely_ did not like it. But Lance could not stop it, of course not – how could he have? How could he have stopped the feeling of wanting to protect the one he loved that much? That wasn’t possible.


	2. Chapter 2

Lance was in a daze - exactly where he whiled away much of the time these days - locked inside his mind. Eyes closed, but not resting.

Hunk's wavelength was melancholy right now. Lance tugged, and blurry images wove past his mind's eye. Hunk took notice and invited him in, reaching out to synchronize their mental wavelengths further. Golden yellow was around him, a comforting and familiar presence, winding through his mind like sunlight through windows.

His mother was acting odd. She was happy. Along with Hunk, Lance tilted his head, trying to listen closely.

Mother was yelling joyfully, something she did rarely and only when she was sure not even her house-elf or the paintings were there to see her.

Hunk pressed forward a feeling of anticipation as his Mother picked up her purse. They rarely went places. They were going somewhere!

The metal of Hunk's Mother's rings was cold as she picked him up, and Hunk examined the shiny gemstones critically, the many colors glinting vividly enough to give Lance vague impressions of brilliant ruby and shining gold against dark black velvet, edged with hard cream where gown turned into the wall in Hunk's eyesight. It was familiar and comforting, a routine sight. His mother adored velvets but usually went for forest greens or gold-trimmed fall leaf colors. Today, was pure ebony black. It smelled of dust. She didn't wear this one much, it seemed, but it looked no different in cut than the others. It was softer than her favorite emerald with copper beltings. He curled into her arms, warm and content, slipping back into a more childlike mindset as he was dressed. Mother was giggling at his antics as she tied a bow-tie on him, telling him how fancy he looked, like a proper gentleman.

Lance was broken from the mental grip by physical touch, opening his eyes and smiling as he met the gentle blue of his own mothers'.

His mother preferred satin. Today was black, as usual. At least it wasn't the one with weird lace all over it. That one made him want to grind his brand-new teeth at the texture. To thank her, he did not pull her hair.

She carried him to the foyer, quiet voice that was precisely the same as Mama's from his last life lulling him to settle down. He never did well with being held. They were to have guests, she was saying as if a normal two-year-old could understand the intricacies of social expectations, with lots of big words.

And then there was a snap, and Lance was _shoved._

His mother scrambled to keep him from falling, and ultimately caught him, bringing him back to her chest and rocking him with gentle shushes, Lance staring up at her in wide-eyed shock.

Father was angry at his sudden twist, and Lance's Mother snarled back at him about being startled by the loud noise made by 'Apparition'. That was when Lance realized the shove had been internal, not external. Father stormed away, seeming to make sure the house was prepared for guests, tone gruff.

None of it mattered. He was drowning. Overwhelmed by images, sensations.

The satin- velvet- gold flashes- stormy blue eyes. Grass- a black door-

Just as suddenly as it has come, Lance was in his own mind again, flooded with joy.

Hunk was here.

Hunk was _at his front door._

It took a moment to reorient himself.

For the past two and a half years, all he had done was reach out, vying for glimmers of the others and what was happening to them, just as they did to him. Keith practically was _living_ their lives with them, locked in the dark as he was at least half the time.

He wasn't used to not having to reach.

The emotional connection was so powerful! He didn't delve into Hunk's psyche, he didn't need to. What Hunk wanted to share, was shared freely. The connection in the back of his mind, part of them, for so long frayed and torn, stronger than they'd ever felt even as Paladins. Working together as one mind to control the weapon that was Voltron, each a different wavelength - covering all the bases - even that was weak in the shadow of this.

And they both were near _retching_ from the dazzling feeling of something broken repairing itself. Lance's stomach was rolling, his head spinning, first in his mind and then in Hunk's, just as Hunk was adjusting to having him nearby again. The split between the coarse velvet and smooth satin, shining gold and pale blue, was dizzying. The pain of two souls torn asunder absent as if it never was - like the pain of a bleeding wound that did not heal, that you took years and adjusted to as if it were part of you, suddenly gone as if by magic.

Lance blinked several times in succession, trying to focus his eyes, meeting Mother's worried blue ones.

"Are you alright little one?"

Lance nodded, then slowly began to smile, wider and wider until his eyes sparkled and teeth showed. That vague fog that made it hard to understand things returned, one he hadn't been in for nearly a year, and he relaxed completely - feeling safe, something so rare these past couple years, with his fellow Paladin nearby. "Hunk's here!" He declared, and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

Mother looked curious. "Hunk?"

Lance glanced at his Father, huddling close to his Mother. There was no way he could hide from Mother - otherwise, the moment Hunk came into the room, he knew he'd lose it, cry and cling. Father wouldn't react well, but if Mother knew, he would be kept safe. She would get them time without Father there.

He trusted her absolutely. And Lance knew it wasn't misplaced. He wanted her to know just how much this day meant to him. How much she meant to him, despite what was going to happen.

"His name's different this time, but last time we were friends when we were little it was Tsu-yo-shi." He whispered, two-and-a-half-year-old mouth still weak against foreign syllables, especially since most of the time he pretended to have the vocabulary of his age. "He's a sunflower and gives great hugs, so I named him Hunk. He used it for the entire rest of our lives."

His mother froze in place, mouth slightly open.

Lance felt tears prick at his eyes, burrowing into her hair so Father wouldn't see. Purebloods didn't cry. (And though that was bullshit - he always frowned when Father stormed around the house in the midst of rolling tirades about bloodlines - it was part of how he had to live, for now.)

Father would interrupt, and Lance wanted to finish, so he double-checked her hair was hiding him before continuing. "Mama... Mama, I missed 'im so much. So much. I know you were taking a risk meeting your friend today so your kids could be friends, all for me, and my future. Heard you say it. And I trust you - but please, don't tell Father. Not yet, and not for a long time, just eventually."

She was silent for a long time.

She didn't brush him off, the look on her face was serious instead of annoyed or aporetic. Lance was relieved. His mother was magic. Reincarnation was only theory amongst 'magic' folk, but she'd probably heard weirder.

"I see." She said slowly. "So this boy... you?"

"Ew! No, not like the romance stories you secretly read to me when Father isn't home." He whispered in her ear, with a small giggle. "He's my brother. There are five of us. Hunk was my childhood friend since before I can even remember from last time. Our mamas were friends. We _can_ always sense each other - we are one being, all of us. Being apart hurts. It hurts _so bad._" He explained with a shudder. "Still does, because the others are so far away. Too much distance tears our minds apart... Our _souls._ Now that Hunk's here, we can protect each other a bit though, make our defense stronger. I should be able to be less listless all the time if he can be here regularly."

"... I understand." His Mother's voice was strong with growing determination.

"... I know what you're thinking. No matter how wrapped up I ever get in our bonds and past, you're my Mama. I remember, but I also really am a little kid most of the time. It's like fog, clouding my thoughts, keeping them simple the way a child's are. I'm still your little one."

His mother drew in a slow breath, and he could tell she was forcing herself not to outwardly react, so Father wouldn't notice - her shoulders trembled for a moment, then she stood tall, holding him tighter.

She would protect him. Always. Lance felt tears prick at his eyes again.

"Mama?"

"Mm?"

"You have the same eyes as last time. I love you no matter what."

\--------------------------------

Hunk and Lance held their breath as the door opened, with the mutual understanding from past shared memories that Lance's Father could _not know._ Not until they were older, before they went to the school their parents mentioned all the time.

They both drew strength from the others' distant excitement to keep themselves from wailing tears of grief, pain, and relief. Shiro's joy and satisfaction; Keith's quick, shallow breaths and adrenaline; Pidge's near-tears shaking, a smile projected to them. They took those and threw them at each other, comforting, communicating.

Lance noticed the weird expression on their guest's face as she looked at him.

The porch of Lance's house probably wasn't the best place for Hunk to tell his mother, and right before meeting one of Lance's mind-bonded friends from a former life not the best time to tell his own mother, but what was done was done.

"Blaire." Lance's mother greeted with a smile. "It's so wonderful to see you again at last."

Blaire was nervous, glancing at the door. "Yes," She whispered at last. "I've missed you so my friend, and I'm so pleased to see you..."

Mother flicked an eye over the black dress, her own near-matching one a statement. "You've been alone in grief for some time now. No more, Blaire."

Blaire and Father both seemed startled, Blaire finally looking at her full-on, before her eyes skimmed down to Lance.

"Until now, we have hidden, stayed secret and safe, out of the public eye, because of our beliefs. No more. I'm tired of this. Once again we will walk proudly down the street, our hair done and shoulders straight. Our children are special, ours in particular. My Little One, he has greatness inside, I know it by instinct. My son and yours will walk down the street hand in hand as toddlers, and never be alone as they face their destiny, as we have been since our Lord's death. Come, we have much to discuss."

Father was staring at her with his mouth slightly parted in shock. Mother gave him a wide smile, alive with something fierce, and turned, taking Blaire's free hand to lead her further into the house, forgoing the kitchen door and the food Mother had prepared for Blaire and her son's arrival. There would be time to eat later.

As his Father was left behind, Lance giggled, marveling at his Mother - how easily she had turned the agenda to the one he requested, while at the same time setting up the perfect situation to do so in the future any time they wished.

\--------------------------------

The moment the door closed behind them, Hunk let out a high whine, and Lance started shaking. They both burst into tears, muffling the sobs with one hand so it wouldn't travel through the door, and reaching out to their friend with the other.


End file.
